A Sinful Reunion
by Toxin Blackheart
Summary: -DISCONTINUED- This was a sort of culminating RE:Outbreak sequel, but I'm just not into it anymore. I'm going to be writing new RE fiction, so this story is being disregarded completely.
1. A Typical, Everyday Board Meeting

Umbrella had seen better days. It truly had. What a way to start a new year with utter failure. To add insult to injury, the OpRev situation, which supposedly had blown over, still brought its share of problems to Umbrella. The families of the deceased S.T.A.R.S. team members had been attempting lawsuits against the megaconglomorate company ever since the incident, and even though the severe lack of evidence kept the cases in Umbrella's favor, their reputation had severely dropped with the spreading word of their possible experiments. As this came to Ms. Black's mind, it brought a slight smile to her face. Their experiments had been getting more advanced with less faults the further they went on, and she was more than sure that their newest project would be the winner. After all, she was heading it. Her focus was broken when her attention was called back into the board meeting.

"Black, your Sin experiment, how is it coming along as of now?" questioned Mr. Green. Although Umbrella was now primarily run by Ms. Black and her seven counterparts, Green had pretty much become the leader of them all. He adjusted his thin-rimmed glasses as he spoke and awaited Black's reply.

"Exemplary. Progress continues to move nowhere but forward," Mr. Red chimed in, saving Black from the embarassment of simply not paying attention to Green's jabbering. He was an intelligent man, true, but he was too focused on hearing his own voice.Green put an emphasis on teamwork, but only because in the end he knew that the credit would go to him..Although Black did have a tight bond with Mr. Red and Mr. Brown, she knew that she could not stick her neck out for anyone aside for herself. She adjusted the collar of her black suit before she began to speak.

"You see Green, all seven of the desired test subjects have been acquired, and all have shown positive reactions to their treatments. None of them have shown any physical change yet, but this will soon occur with the virus's progression." One of Black's favorite parts about these experiments was codenaming the masterpieces that the virus made of what once were simple humans. She keenly noticed beforehand that her seven test subjects could correspond with the seven deadly sins: gluttony, greed, sloth, lust, pride, envy, and wrath. She found it quite coincidential that each of her subjects somehow expressed one of the seven sins almost on a daily basis. "This project will certainly be the one to perfect the virus. I swear it to you."

"I have high hopes Ms. Black. **Don't** let me down." She couldn't help but mentally chuckle to herself. If only the others had known a thing about what she was _REALLY_ doing.


	2. The Sin is Unleashed

Already, two weeks had passed by, but they had felt like months due to Ms. Black's anxiousness. The virus had remained dormant in each of the seven subjects, but she was extremely eager. Eager due to the fact that this dormant virus could soon be tested on. In mere hours, she would have the ability to awaken the virus within the bodies of her test subjects. She fondly admired the small canister that held the necessary amount of virus needed to trigger the virus already present in their systems, and even more to her delight, it was in a liquid form that wouldalmost instantly evaporate upon meeting oxygen. Not only did she hold brilliant power in her hands, she could secretly unleash this power at any time. She knew that at the next board meeting, her coworkers would be abosolutely astounded with what she had to present. She grinned as she slipped the vial into her jacket pocket before setting her jacket on her bed. She figured she'd get in a quick relaxing shower before the meeting began, and that's exactly what she planned on doing. 

----------

An obnoxiously loud rendition of "_Fur Elise_" blared into Mr. Brown's ear from his currently ringing and vibrating cell phone, which was spastically going out of control by his bedside. He groaned and rolled over, checking his clock which informed him that it was a cheery eleven minutes until 5:00 AM. Brown groggily turned over, hoping this call was important enough that it was important enough to interrupt his slumber, and grabbed his phone, answering with a partially slurred "Hello"

"Brown, it's Black. I've got what we needed to activate the dormat virus in the test subjects. We will finally be able to truly begin the Sin Experiments. I've already informed Red, and I think today I will officially begin the TRUE research"

"Couldn't you have saved this for the meeting? Y'know, the meeting in THREE HOURS?" Brown didn't care if Black thought he was pissed: He was. He had been tired, and he was exeptionally irritated by the fact that he had been woken up to find something out that he would find out in a few fucking hours anyway. He was mildly surprised to find out that he got no reply from Ms. Black. "Ya there still?" The only reply Mr. Brown got from Black's line was a symphony of beeps, indicating her hanging up on him. Brown hit the "End" button on his phone and sluggishly lobbed it into the seat of his chair where his brown tweed suit sat, waiting.

----------

The final button on Mr. Yellow's fine black suitcoat secured itself after a slight struggle, slightly scraping across his belly. Yellow wasn't necessarily a fat man by any means, but he had the typical businessman's paunch and his thinning blonde hair made his face look much fuller than it had been in the past. He tucked his yellow tie into his coat and waited for a few little seconds as the elevator ventured to the top floor of the building, where he was due for a meeting, of course. This was one of their regularly scheduled meetings, but Ms. Black apparantly had some big breakthrough with her little hooh-hah and whatnot, and Yellow actually found himself mildly curious about what exactlyshe was so anxious about. Thinking back, he realized that the day she began her "Sin" projects had been the first time she'd ever smiled since becoming one of the big Umbrella bosses. He figured that she didn't have much in that head of hers to smile about, being a Raccoon survivor and all. The tiny chime snapped Yellow out of his thoughts and he slipped a stick of gum in his mouth as he stepped out of the elevator.

----------

Mr. Red was surprised to find that he was the first to arrive when he opened the door to their board room. He was more than sure that Black would be there first, for she'd almost been bouncing off the walls for the past week. He had to admit, thinking of the project did make him a bit anxious, but also a bit frustrated. Red had formed almost a miniature "alliance" with Ms. Black and Mr. Brown (who's really just a seat filler) and he was a little irked that not even he was allowed to know who the test subjects for the Sin were. It couldn't be a big deal, but Red pushed the idea aside as he took his seat. He pushed his hands through his black hair, making sure it was slicked back, just as he liked it. Not long after him, all the rest began to pile in. Ms. Blue arrived second, but he didn't have much to say about or to her. Mr. Red didn't really like any of his coworkers as much as he hated them and suspiciously watched them. Blue was the definition of the word "whore," while characters like Brown did nothing but take up space. Then, certain characters like Yellow had perks likejust sitting and hogging everybody else's credit and glory, claiming that he's got the "senior authority." A senior at fifty-fucking-four? Pff, _right_. Black finally arrived, second to last, only beating out Mr. Brown, but he arrived promptly, which was quite a surprise,after Black.

"Alright everybody, shall we begin?" Ms. Black's smiley greeting didn't receive any real enthusiastic replies, but Red didn't think that was her prime goal. She pulled a very small vial out of the pocket of her black coat. It was about the size of a pen cap, and the liquid encased inside was transparent. "This, my friends, is the key to what will start the Sin Experiments. Once this is administered upon the test subjects who have the pre-virus in their systems, the changes and real experimentation will begin. Are you all ready"

Green wasn't exactly sure what to make of Black's last comment, and slightly chuckled. "What exactly do you mean by **'we'**?" Confusion and dissention was beginning to arise in all of the Umbrella bosses. The big picture finally clicked in Mr. Red's brain, and he stood up, grabbing his chair and rearing back, ready to toss it at Ms. Black. She'd betrayed him and Brown and everybody else for that matter, and he wasn't going to lose his life at her deception. However, her reflexes were farfaster than his and the vial flew through the air untilit's flight was halted whenit made impact with the desk, the glass smashing and flying every which way. The activation virus left no stain, for it instantly became a gas and made its way into the lungs of the infected bosses. Black was the only one standing after mere seconds passed, only due to her lack of the pre-virus in her body. The heels of her shoes clicked against the floor as she stepped over bodies and grabbed the telephone.

"Doctor Quillocy?"

The good doctor's gruff voice appeared on the other line. _"Dr. Q here, what can I do for you?"_ Black said nothing, and after a few moments, Dr. Q realized to whom he spoke. _"Oh, right. Are they ready?"_

"As ready as they'll ever be." Black smiled and hung up the phone. She turned and glared at the bodies of her former coworkers. This sight built up her anticipation all the more and she exitedly knew she'd soon see them perfected as they would be reveling in their own sins.


	3. A Very Unpeaceful Night's Sleep

Black was absolutely delighted to find that her Sin experiments were going amazingly well, even better than she had originally predicted. Each of her colleagues had reacted to the virus in ways that had surpassed even Dr. Q's visions. She had to give him a hand, for without him, her ideas would have gone no further than the boundaries of her dreams. She suddenly realized that she should round up a few "volunteers" who could possibly test the power of her creations. Another realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she couldn't help but smile. She left the now desolate board room table and headed towards the phone. She dialed for Giles, the head of the cleaner squad. They were also quite efficient at removing certain people from society.

"Giles, I need the survivors of the Raccoon outbreak. I've sent a list of which ones I need, and those are the ones that you will be getting for me."

She received acknowledgement from Giles on the other line and hung up the phone. Soon enough, her creations could be let loose to play. She sat back down in her seat at the abandoned table and smiled giddily.

-

_The power had gone out in the hospital a few hours ago, and the creatures had swarmed it not too long afterwards. It was very difficult to find any sort of refuge at all, the dead had overtaken the hospital, and they greatly outnumbered the few people that still lived. George had managed to survive thus far by avoiding rather than killing, and occasionally giving a firm blow from his shoulder to any undead that shuffled too close. He knew that there was an escape route underneath the hospital, but he needed keys to get there, and he would be quite delighted if he could find a weapon too. He entered another room, but luckily, this one had none of the walking dead lurking about. Instead, he saw Hursh, one of the doctors of the hospital. _

_ "Hey, Hursh!"_

_ Hursh just and grabbed at his chest, startled by George's sudden greeting. "Oh dear, you startled me for a second there. I seem to have a bit of a problem here. I'm trying to get the power back, and I am not sure how to activate the backup auxillary battery. Could you tell me if this works?"_

_ George nodded and watched Hursh hit a few buttons on some sort of console. Although George had worked at the hospital for quite some time, he didn't know how to operate any of lights or power, or any of that crap. After Hursh pressed one last button, the lights began to flicker on. Hursh let out a sigh of relief, and began to walk towards George. There was a barricade of desks and other objects forming a bridge between he and his fellow doctor. There was a sudden crash, and Hursh turned his head. A man covered in blood-sucking leeches had peeked through one of the curtains, and Hursh stood for a second, petrified with fear. He took off, madly scurrying towards the barricade, his tanned forehead damp with sweat. He began to climb the barricade, but one of the desks slid out from under him, and he fell back to his side of the wall. George ran towards it and began to climb himself. He looked over and saw that Hursh was still conscious, but now his hand was bleeding from the fall. The leech creature became aroused by the scent of blood, and hobbled towards Hursh like a drunk man. He tackled the downed Hursh, and George realized that he would be next. With Hursh's screams filling his ears, George ran and opened the door to leave the room, only to have a flood of undead spew towards him as the door opened. Teeth bit at him, fingers clawed at him, and George was screaming-_

-at the top of his lungs as he awoke in a cold sweat. Another nightmare, the third one in one week alone. He groaned with mild relief and wiped the sweat off of his brow with his forearm. He threw his sheets off of his body and tossed his legs over the side of the bed. He looked over at the clock. A flourescent red 3:49 glared back at him. He groaned again, and stood up, walking towards his bathroom. His mouth was more dry than the Sahara, so he figured that he'd get some water before going back to sleep. He flicked on the bathroom light, and groaned for a third time as one of the two bathroom light bulbs burned out. He filled the glass about halfway, and drank only some, realizing that there was a figure in his shower. He could see a blurred silhouette of a man through his clear shower curtain. He hoped that the intruder had not seen him, and he whirled around and tossed his glass at the shower. He took off running, but felt a pinch in his back. He looked at his shoulder, and a dart was stuck there. Drowsiness took hold, and George Hamilton was asleep before he hit the ground.

-

Harvey Bohr, a member of the cleaner squad, sat hiding in the bushes near Mark Wilkins's cabin. He had been waiting there for a few good hours, and there had been no sign of Wilkins at all. He and some other cleaners had been sent out to neutralize and bring back the survivors of the Raccoon City biohazardous outbreak. As he sat waiting for Mark, his comrades were simotaneously doing the same thing, only with the other targets. He suddenly heard the sound of an engine approaching, and he laid down flat on his belly and put his eye to the scope of his tranq rifle. He saw not one, but two come out of the truck, Mark and a younger man. He radioed back to Giles, the big boss of the cleaners.

"Commander, the target is accompanied by another individual. Would you like me to neutralize them both and bring both back? Over."

_"Couldn't hurt. Go ahead and do just that. Over and out."_

Harvey took aim at the boy first. If his intuition was right, this guy was probably Wilkins's son, so some sort of parental instinct shit would probably kick in, and make Mark an easier target. He shot at the young man, and the dart hit him in the chest. He almost immediately fell to the dusty ground, and Mark went running to him, pulling the dart out and trying to revive him. Harvey another dart into the rifle and shot right when the crosshairs sat on Mark's back. "Goodnight Mr. Survivor."

-

At about 4:00 AM, David King awoke from a nightmare of his own. The same nightmare that had haunted him for six years. He knew that all of the zombies had been put to rest by the explosion, but they still managed to wreak havok in his mind. He sat up and gasped, and realized that he was in his bedroom, not J's Bar as his dream had made him believe. Cindy Lennox, now his fiancée, woke up after him, putting one of her smooth, warm hands on his bare chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat.

"Did you have the dream again?" David merely nodded his head as he attempted to catch his breath. Cindy wrapped her arms around David's waist and pulled herself close to him. He wrapped and arm around her as she laid her face against his chest. David even admitted himself that he had been a cold, almost emotionless person, but Cindy actually managed to teach him to love a little. He was absolutely wild about her, and he was glad that she was there to give him something to care about. Before the Raccoon incident, he had been a man without purpose, a plumber who was being eaten alive by his past. Now was different. Cindy had been able to destroy the barrier he had created to hide from himself, and she had shown him who he really was, and he was more than greatful for that.

"I'll be right back, I just want to make sure the door is locked." Cindy acknowledged him with a smile and let him go and watched him as he left. Just as she began to notice the closet door opening, she felt a sharp pain and let out a quick gasp before falling into unconsciousness. David turned back towards the bedroom and waited. He heard nothing, but his impulses were screaming at him. He slowly advanced towards the rack by the door, and grabbed his pocket knife from his coat pocket. He unfolded it, and prowled towards his bedroom again. The closet door was slightly opened, even when he specifically remember closing it before going to sleep. He leapt at the closet and tore the door open, only to be shot by a tranquilizer dart. He stumbled back out of the bedroom, folding his knife and hiding it in his sock before sinking into unconsciousness. The same process repeated with the other outbreak survivors until all were captured and held in the basement cells of the Umbrealla headquarters, where they soon would learn that their nightmares and fears would resurface to test them once again.


	4. The Calvary Arrives

Nervousness or anxiety can be accompanied by a strange fluttering feeling in one's stomach. The presence of stress causes the brain to divert focus from digesting to other more important functions, leaving what many call "butterflies" in the stomach. Ms. Black's stomach was filled with a vertible nest or two of butterflies. She was going to call a good friend of hers, a man who helped inspire her from the beginning of her career at Umbrella. He was a man whose past was as mysterious as his current intentions. He was a man named _Albert Wesker_. Wesker had been of great assistance to the Umbrella corporation, and had been one of its top scientists for many years, not to mention a compatriot of the late William Birkin. After one ring, Black found herself speaking to Wesker's secretary.

"Name please."

"Ms. Black."

Without any acknowledgement from the secretary, Black heard the sound of her call being transferred and she now could hear the smooth, slick voice of Wesker himself.  
"I am assuming that you are calling to deliver data on your 'Sin' experiments. What have you accomplished since your last call?"

The butterflies were fluttering in her stomach at an extremely rapid rate, almost to the extent that she felt slightly nauseated. She tried to swallow before she began, but she had no saliva in her mouth that she could swallow, so she began regardless. "The experiments are finished. I have added the Sin virus to my fellow chairpersons and each have undergone different mutations due to their differentiating genetic structures. I have also had Doctor Quillocy build upon previous tests and research with the Sin and we have created more improved bioweapons based on previous designs. All of the samples and subjects are here and I have also captured eight survivors from the Raccoon City outbreak. They are currently in the basement of the facility in the Prison Quarters. I plan on using them to test the capabilities of my Sin creations."

"Hm." Wesker did not speak for a moment, an action that Black did not know the meaning of. She hoped that these breakthroughs pleased him, but his awkward silence was building doubt in her mind. Her heart seemingly began to beat again when he spoke up. "I am very pleased to hear that you have had success. I am going to send agents over to your facility to retrieve your subjects and samples of the Sin virus. They will aid my research in many ways."  
Black's blood ran cold. She had labored for months on this project, and now her superior simply wished to take away the fruits of this labor and claim it as his own. Her head began to ache as she attempted to restrict her emotion from exploding upon Wesker at that very moment.

"But, sir-"

"I did not ask for your opinion. I **AM** sending some of my agents to retrieve the subjects and virus samples regardless of your viewpoint on it. If you don't cooperate, I just _might_ accidentally tip off a certain anti-Umbrella organization, which is something you would not want me to do, rest assured. You're beginning to forget who is in charge Ms. Black, and I am afraid that consequences must be faced in order for you to learn your lesson. That is all I have to say to you. Goodbye, Mrs. Black."

The call ended, and Black was now taunted by the beeping from thenow deadline. She stood frozen, the phone still by her ear, each beep resounding in her skull like a jackhammer. She simply could not believe the nerve that Wesker had, and she felt that she should not have to put up with it. She lobbed the phone across the room, pulling the plug out of the wall. According to Wesker, she was irrelevant and putting her out of the picture was the only option. The fact that she was soon going to die was now more than obvious to her. _"I'm not going down without kicking and screaming my fucking head off. If Wesker wants to send others to do his dirty work, then boy oh boy, am I going have surprises for them.I'll give themone hell of a fight."_ Black walked back over to the phone that she had thrown, picking it up and plugging it back into the wall. She dialed Dr. Q once again, probably for the final time. When he picked up, she gave him no time to speak. "Doctor, please release the virus samples throughout the entire complex. I also request that you please release all of the bioweapons as well. Thank you." She hung up, not waiting for Q's answer. She knew that he was a loyal man, and a smart one too. He had an oxygen mask in his quarters, and he'd put it on if he wanted to live. Black walked close to the door and opened a keypad that was concealed in the wall. She could not risk anybody leaving the building, both staff, prisoners, and the soon to arrive intruders alike. After a few swift button presses, she saw the steel covers slink downwards and cover every window in the Conference Room. Identical steel covers were doing the same thing in every other room's windows, and also on the entrance and exit doors of the building. The only doors that would go unblocked would be the Rooftop doors, both to the elevator and stairs. She needed some way for the intruders to arrive. Even better, the entire Basement floor would be sealed off, leaving her precious captives safe from the virus. After all, they were going to be a part of her test subject, and her creations were probably more than excited by now. They needed something to display their strength on. Ms. Black suddenly smiled and began to giggle to herself as she could hearthe panicking Umbrella workers below began to scream at their sudden confinement. What began as a horrible situation was now unveiling itself to be quite a good thing.

-

Dr. Q sat in what was now nicknamed "The Womb." The Womb was the windowlesslab room where the seven Sin creations sat in stasis, and it was also the location for the one viral sample. He walked over to the safe where the virus was kept, and opened it, taking the small vial and putting in the pocket of his lab coat. His nerves were kicking in, and he was beginning to sweat. He wiped the sweat off his brown forehead with one shaky hand. He never thought that it would happen like this. He never thought that Mr. Wesker would turn on them like he did. He also grabbed his Cougar 9MM pistol and two clips of ammunition from the safe, and placed them in his other pocket. He grabbed an oxygen mask from the supply closet before heading towards the telephone. He wanted to make sure that he was not the only survivor, and that there was at least some backup firepower in case things went awry. He called Giles Henderson, the leader of the cleaner squad. They were armed, and if they survived, they would be a great source of protection. He scratched at his greying beard as he dialed Giles.

"Giles speaking."

"Mr. Henderson, please equip all of your weaponry and have all of your soldiers and yourself put on oxygen masks. Ms. Black wants to infect the building and release the specimens. Stay alert." Dr. Q hung up and put on his oxygen mask. He waited for five minutes, just to make sure that the boys had enough time to get ready. The five minutes seemed to last for a good five years, and Q rubbed his freezing hands together. He pulled the vial from his coat pocket and stood on a chair, opening to the grating to the air vents. "Here's to you _Albert Wesker_, for fucking over so many months of hard work." Q threw the vial with all of his strength and anger, and he heard the tiny sound of a small glass vial shattering. He looked back at the clock. It was about 7:30 PM. The Sin was a much quicker virus than the T-Virus, so infection would prove to take hold much faster. He expected that all of the employees would be carriers by at least 8:00. He walked over to each of the stasis tubes, looking at each monstrosity that sat in them. They were monsters, but they were like children to Q. He had spent so long creating them, perfecting them, and he hoped that they lived up to what he made them to be. He shut off the sedative and vitamin feeds in each tube, and activated the draining process. He quickly ran to the supply closet and hid himself within it, closing the door and locking it behind him.

-

The helicopters were just only a few minutes short of arriving at their destination. The Anti-Umbrella Resistance Force soldiers were on their way, tipped off by an anonomous benefactor. Three helicopters were filled with eight soldiers each, and in one of these helicopters, Barry Burton sat, admiring an old and weathered photograph. He had kept the picture of him and his family with him since the incident in the Spencer Estate. He considered it not just as a good luck charm, but to him, it was also like a guadian angel. His family meant the world to him. Hell, they were the only reason that he was still doing work like this. He wanted his daughters to grow up safely and have normal lives, and he desperately wanted to make sure that they never had to go through what he had. He kissed the picture and put it back into his pocket, asking God for a short prayer of protection before his mission began. He turned to the man on his left, who coincidentally was also staring at a photograph. He was a younger man, probably just nearing his thirties with long blonde hair that fell past his shoulders and a seemingly innocent face. His name was Bruce McGivern. Barry nudged him a bit and got his attention.

"Who's the girl?"

The man paused for a second, almost as if he were surprised that another noticed the woman in the picture. Bruce spoke with a heavy Southern-drawl, "Her name is Fong Ling. I had met her on a cruise ship that was hijacked by a terrorist named Morpheus Duvall. She was an agent of the Chinese government, and she helped me. Both of us survived the viral disaster that occured, but she just left me afterwards." Bruce let out a sad little sigh. "I've pretty much made an oath to myself to find her, just to thank her at least, for what she had done for me. And, well, maybe a little bit more too." Bruce winked and shot a sly little grin, and Barry returned the smile.

"What are you two flirting about over there?"Barry and Bruce turned to see who caused the sudden interruption, only to see that it was the one and only Carlos Olivera. Carlos was a Hispanic man, a quality that was easily given away thanks to Mr. Olivera's thick Latino accent. He had dark brown hair that fell past his earlobes, which he parted to the sides down the middle. He had a bit of a goatee, but it was only stubble. Carlos was currently rubbing at this "goatee" as he spoke again. "You can't start making out now, the 'copter is gonna land pretty soon!" Bruce smiled and retorted with the universally known middle finger and Carlos piped up again, "Aww carajo Brucie! Take it easy caballero!" They chuckled for a bit until the helicopter buckled a bit. They had landed. The other two helicopters landed not long after, only behind by a few seconds. All of the soldiers piled out, leaving the pilots. The armed pilots were to stay in case of an emergency. Barry ordered this himself. He didn't want another "Chickenheart" situation on his hands. He did not intend this mission to be one where people died, but he somewhat felt that it would be inevitable. He wished that he could be optimistic, but as soon as he saw the huge Umbrella logo painted on the rooftop, any hopes for optimism faded away. He was the first to the elevator door, and he turned and stopped.

"Alright ladies and gents, this is the last stop. From here on out, be alert, stay focused, and do not, I repeat, do NOT let your guard down. Some of you already know that you will not be up against the average man. If you want any advice, make it quick and go for the head. We are heading for the basement. There are eight survivors down there that we must rescue and evacuate. If they are all safe, radio in. We'll all meet back here on the rooftop. Everybody got that?" Barry was answered by a chorus of nods and acknowledgements and 'Yes sirs.' He sent Fleet 1 down the elevator, Fleet 2 down one of the sets of stairs, and finally his Fleet, Fleet 3, went down the secondary set of stairs. He checked his watch. It read 20:08, about 8:00 PM.Their mission had officially begun.


	5. Releasing the Prey

Alyssa Ashcroft woke up with what could have possibly been one of the worst headaches that any man or woman had ever suffered. It took her a moment to come to before she realized that she was not asleep inher posh hotel room covered bysilky sheetswith her head sinking intofluffy pillow. Not anymore, at least. The closest thing she had to a pillow wasthe cold, cement floor. The room was somewhat dark, or at least too dark for her to see through squinted eyes. She looked up, and a crappy light hung from the ceiling. The bulb was nearly dead, and the metal cone over the bulb was shoddy and bent. It slightly swung, changing walls from dark to light shades ofgray. She looked, and her heart jumped into anothergear when she realized that one of the four walls was an array of bars: She was in a prison cell. Her mouth went dry and her headache suddenly was not top priority. She got up and ran to the bars and wrapped her hands around them. Her polished, purple fingernails touched each other as she clung to the bars. All hope gone and confusion prevailing, Alyssa let out a fatigued pout and laid back onto the floor, her new bed.

"Who was that! Is somebody there?" Alyssa quickly sat back up. She wasn't sure where the whispering voice was coming from, and she wasn't sure if she really wanted to talk to this enigma. The whisper came back again. "Alyssa! Is that you?"

Alyssa, confused and now very uncomfortable, replied, "Um, yeah, I'm Alyssa. Who are you?"

"Hey! Come over here!" Alyssa saw a figure move down by the tiny grating system in the side of the wall, connecting to what she guessed was the next cell. "Come on over here, please!" Alyssa cautiously walked toward the vent, holding at her elbow with one of her hands. She kneeled down, and saw the face of Cindy Lennox, an aquaintance from very long ago.

"Oh my God, it is you, Alyssa!"

"Cindy? Are you really...is that..?" Alyssa, quite frankly, did not know what in the hell she should say. Alyssa hadn't really gotten to know Cindy during the time that she'd known her, trying to survive, and was unsure what to do or say. "Sorry, I'm in a bit of shock..."

Cindy smiled, her optimism shining through even now, "Oh, don't worry, me too. I wasn't sure if you had survived the Raccoon disaster after we'd sort of parted ways!" There was a pause, and Alyssa realized that Cindy wasn't exactly sure what to say either. "Hey, I think I know the answer to this, but, do you know how we got here?" Alyssa wasn't sure herself. She could only guess that she was abducted during the night, seeing that she was still in her nightgown from when she had last remembered going to sleep. She shook her head and shrugged, and Cindy nodded, figuring that "no" would have been Alyssa's answer. As she looked at Cindy, she realized that not much had really changed in her. Granted, she could only see her face through the vent, but she still had the same whitish-blonde hair, the same genuine blue eyes, and the same loyal smile. Alyssa turned again, and saw that she was being watched through the bars. The guard, dressed in the typical garb of most security guards, banged his billy club against the bars.

"Shut up you." Alyssa nervously gulped in response. "You got me woman?" Alyssa slowly nodded, and shakily attempted to smile. As soon as the guard turned, Alyssa of course felt that it was necessary to give the middle finger to the rather rude guard, but suddenly, the telephone rang by the man's desk. He slowly marched over to the desk and sluggishly picked up the phone. He replied to the voice, who was unknown to Alyssa, with a barrage of "Uh huhs" until he mixed up his arsenal of acknowledgementswith a "Yeah" and hung up. He walked down the row of cells and stuck his club in between the bars, rattling the stick as he walked by. "Alright everybody, rise and shine!" The resounding clangs against the bars echoed through the basement. The ceiling lights created a gleam off of the man's ID plate, which told Alyssa that his named was "A. Douglas." His wake up call produced groans and moans, along with some mumbled curses. He strolled over to his desk again, and typed a few keystrokes on his computer. Moments later, the cell doors all opened.

> > > > > > >

David's pocket knife had made the quick but stealthy transition from his sock to his hand, where it was cozily wrapped up with his fist. He and the rest of the "prisoners" were forced to stand in a single file line outside of their cells. David saw Cindy, and he suddenly felt a huge feeling of relief to see that she was alive and in good condition. After seeing her, David suddenly realized that his fellow prisoners were all survivors from the virus outbreak in Raccoon City. However, looking behind him, there was a young black man who he could not recognize. Before he had any chance to ponder, a gruff hand grabbed David by the face and forcefully wrenched his head towards the face of the security guard.

"What exactly are you looking at slick?" David didn't exactly like this guy's tone, so he replied with a friendly jab to the nose. The guy fell like a sack of bricks, and he pushed him self across the floor against the wall, holding at his bleeding nose. "You motherfucker!" The guard drew his handgun, a standard Beretta, and David froze. He knew that if he showed his knife, he'd be screwed, so he stood there, his veins running cold. The law was not kind to him once more, just as it had been in the past for him. A. Douglas got up, still holding a hand over his nose and his other hand poked the gun at David's throat, the barrel nestling right beneath his Adam's apple. Another fist came from the side, smashing against A. Douglas's jaw, and the bulky body of Mark Wilkins followed through, taking the guard to the ground. A shot fired off, but by luck, it hit nobody, only chipping at the lifeless gray concrete wall. David saw his chance, and grabbed his knife, unfolding the silver blade. He leapt at the downed guard, who waspinned to the floor thanks to Mark's successful tackle. David hated to have his past relapse on him, especially with Cindy in the very same room, but he knew what had to be done. The relatively small blade cut a quick path across the guard's neck, slicing through throat and artery alike. A horrible gurgle erupted from A. Douglas's mouth and a small geyser of blood bubbled out, staining the sides of his mouth. His pupils grew larger as his head tipped to the side. The gurgling in his mouth ceased, and he went limp under Mark's body.

"I'm sorry, everybody." David looked down at his knife. It and his hand had become bloodied, the shine of the blade was gone, smeared with crimson. He wiped the blood from the knife and his hand onto his pair of boxer shorts and went over to Cindy. "Are you alright?"

Kevin Ryman, the former cop, stepped forward. "Alright people, obviously, we're all caught in some really fucked up scheme. I don't think that it's a coincidence that we're all here, especially considering that we all lived through Raccoon." Kevin stopped, glazing on his words and spotting the young black man. "Except you, who exactly are you?"

The boy didn't speak up right away, but Mark chimed in instead. "Everybody, this is my son, Ben. He's been living with me for the last year and a half in my cabin out in Georgia..."

"I see you tried getting as far away from the old Raccoon as possible, huh?" For once, Cindy almost seemed sad upon bringing up Raccoon City. "David and I moved out to California. I guess you kind of try anything to try and escape your fears, huh?"

Cindy was interrupted by the sound of turning gears. Everybody ran down the small hallway, and saw that the stairs leading upwards were blocked off by a huge, metal barrier. The steel was obscenely thick, possibly strong enough to holdagainst an explosion. Not even a wisp of air could get through the huge black doors, so it seemed. However, the doors were slowly moving. After a few seconds, light peeped through. As the door continued opening, Kevin ran back towards the cells and George tagged along after him.

"Hey, hey! What are you doing?"

Kevin looked up with his, an almost mischevious smirk sitting upon his face. "Most of us were obviously blindsided, seeing how we're in pajamas and such. I figure, we should all try to get clothed as soon as possible." Kevin began to undress the now pale corpse of A. Douglas. "And I figure that this SOB ain't gonna be needing clothes anymore." Kevin and George laughed as he tossed the shirt to him. George slipped the slightly bloodied shirt over his wife beater. "Just my size. I guess it's my lucky day."

Kevin and George ran back to the others, who watched as the doors had almost completed opening. The end of the hallway by the stairs was now very well lit thanks to the newly exposed floor, and the dull, gray walls were much lighter. However, they still retained the same lifeless feeling, and were just as cold. Kevin distributed clothing out to who needed them most, primarily David, who was clad in just boxers and socks, and Cindy, who probably would be more comfortable in more than just her blacklingerie. Kevin felt like making a comment on Cindy's figure, but he held his tongue, not wanting to end up like the guard back there.

"Wait up y'all. Why exactly are we goin' up there!" Jim scratched at his head, his hair still bleached blonde, just as it was back in '98. "We don't know what's up there, man! What if this ends up beinglike Raccoon City again? We barely survived that, and I don't wanna die now!"

Mark walked up to Jim and put one of his hands on his shoulder. "Hey, hey, hey, calm down Jimmy. Listen, we've got one gun right now. As long as we stay together,as a group, and not waste away our two clips worth of bullets, we'll be just fine. Got me?" Jim nodded, still terrified, but he tried his best to cover it with a smile.

Kevin stepped to the front, by the first stair of the staircase, and held the gun in his hand. "Alright everybody, like Jim said, we really don't know what is ahead of us. It's been a while since we've had to work together like this, but we need to work as a team. Cockiness and thickheadedness will get us in trouble, and I've learned that the hard way." Kevinshuddered a bit, thinking of the massive scar on his backfrom the Raccoon disaster. "So guys, we gotta stick together and not panic. Cool?" Kevin did not expect an answer, so he turned and began climbing the stairs, beginning the ascension with his previous comrades into their past reincarnated.


	6. The Lobby

The cold concrete stairs led to a decent sized locker room, quite the opposite of the exquisite and massive entry hall that Jim had been expecting. The room was in good condition. It's light gray-colored walls were free of cracks and blood stains alike, which had Jim sighing with relief. All four of the walls had at least five lockers on it, if not a little more,and Jim made a guess at saying there were around 20 something lockers. Jim's heart literally jumped into his throat as he spotted the unmoving body on the floor. The body, that of some male worker, wasn't in awful condition, and Jim was actually unsure as to whether he may have been dead or unconscious.

George slowly approached the downed man and stooped down onto one knee. He apprehensively touched the man's shoulder and pulled him so he was laying on his back. "He's not breathing…" George placed two of his fingers next to the man's windpipe. "No pulse, and his temperature is beginning to drop. He's been dead, but I wouldn't say for very long."

"I really don't give a shit, man! You KNOW we can't trust the dead anymore, and I really don't want to take any chances with this guy!" Jim walked over to Kevin and began to grab at the pistol he had acquired from A. Douglas. "C'mon Kev, give the gun here!"

Kevin's face, usually tinged with a small smirk, was cold and emotionless. Rather than snap at Jim with one of his usual, wise-ass remarks, he simply and slowly said, "We can't waste bullets. It's too risky."

For a long while, the room was filled with an ominous silence as all eyes remained totally focused on the unmoving body. The man's eyes did not stare back, but rather stared blindly at the ceiling, clouded over and white. His skin had the pestilential tone of the walking dead that had been encountered so long before, and he began to give off the same odor, as well.

Without any announcement, Mark walked forward over the dead man and swooped his hands underneath the dead man's arms. He pulled him up, the man's head drooped lifelessly downward. Mark dragged the body towards one of the lockers and stopped. "Would anybody be kind enough to open one of these lockers?"

Alyssa ran forward, "Uh yeah, no problem." The locker had no lock on it, so she very easily managed to open the locker door. "Hang on a sec, there's some crap in here." Alyssa pulled out the security uniform of the locker's owner, and stepped out of the way as Mark stuffed the limp body into the locker. After the door had shut, Mark turned to Alyssa once again.

"Hey, are you still good with locks? I'd feel much safer if this locker was locked, but I would also be nice to check these other lockers for stuff, too."

"No man! We should just get the fuck outta dodge, so we don't hafta worry about any of this!" Jim squealed.

David pushed his way through the crowd and past Jim. "Here's an idea. How about me and Kevin go check out whatever room is outside of that door right over there, so we can maybe try to find an exit before everybody starts bitching about things. That work?" Nobody said a word, but Kevin stepped forward and headed towards the lone door in the room. David turned around one last time before slinking out of the door. "Everybody stay here."

>>>>>>>>>>

Agent 1, also codenamed HUNK, looked out from the window of the 'chopper and saw that three helicopters had already landed on the roof of the building. The pilot, who began to circle the building, said, "Looks like somebody else already beat you here. I don't wanna risk landing, so you guys will have to get on the roof while I'm still in the air. Got me?" HUNK and Agent 2 both nodded, their faces totally covered by gas masks. They both stood up, and HUNK opened the hatch that led to the outside. The two agents looked at each other.

"Ladies first," said HUNK, his voice deepened and altered by his mask. Agent 2 gave a little nod and clipped her buckle on one of the loops by the helicopter door. She rappelled out of the helicopter and landed on the rooftop, unclipping the wire from her belt. HUNK did the same, and they both headed towards the elevator that sat in between the two stairwells.

>>>>>>>>>>

David's fears had returned. In the main, exquisite entryway, seven more bodies were laying on the ground. As if their entrance were the trigger, all seven of the corpses slowly began to rise to their feet.

"Give me the gun."

"No David."

"Kevin, **give**…**me**…**the gun**."

Both of the men were speaking through clenched teeth, hoping that the undead would fail to notice them. However, their plan backfired. The pale, blank faces of the employees of whatever this place was turned and stayed turned towards Kevin and David. Almost tortured groans began to come from them as they slowly shuffled towards the duo.

"Fuck, what do we do now?"

"We kill them Kevin. We kill them. We're going to do the same thing that we did back in Raccoon City. We are going to put these pasty-faced monsters out of their goddamned misery." David no longer had fear. It had passed away along with the hopes of being able to live in peace and the hopes of never having to take another life. David knew that he had to act now, and not live in such fear, but rather, just _live_.

Kevin, still intent on conserving their limited ammunition, clicked on the handgun's safety and dropped the gun in the pocket of his flannel pajama pants. David once again unfolded his knife, and the two charged. As Kevin ran towards one of them, a fat woman in a nice suit, she toppled towards him, clumsily tripping over her own sluggish feet. She slammed onto the dark-green tile, her clammy hands attempting to wrap around Kevin's feet. Still keeping his attention on the downed woman, Kevin turned to another one, a young man in a brown delivery man's uniform. He smashed a fist into the dead man's face, smashing nose and breaking teeth, as he teetered backwards, also slamming into the floor.

David was not having the easiest time either. Each slice of the knife seemed to do little to nothing to the shambling monsters. He cut across the eyes of one of them, leaking blood and fluid onto the woman's face. Although blinded, the woman almost became more vicious as her hands groped for David as her wounded eyes dripped into her gaping mouth. She nearly leapt at him, but his hands wrapped around her neck as he tossed her at the other two approaching zombies. Realizing how futile his attempts were, David tossed his knife to the side and kicked one of the other two zombies, throwing it to the floor. A skinny white arm reached for David's face, and he took the third zombies arm and punched at the elbow, easily breaking the already frail limb. This did not at all slow his advancement, as his other, unbroken arm still tried to claw at David. He swept its legs out from under it, and stomped on his face. He ducked under the outstretched arms of the blinded woman, and drove an elbow into her stomach, throwing her to the ground as well.

As the blinded zombie hit the floor, Kevin himself also fell to the ground as three of the four zombies he was against staggered towards him. Quickly running out of options, Kevin got to his feet and ran to the secretary's desk in the middle of the room. He picked up the wheeled office chair and pulled the seat from the wheeled base. Holding the seat in front of him, he rammed the metal rod sticking out from under the seat into the chest of the delivery man. He grabbed the head of one of the others and bashed it into the edge of the desk. Blood splattered on the desk as the zombie fell to the ground. The third of his pursuers had gone off towards David, leaving Kevin with the fat woman, who was still inching across the floor towards him. He got a running start, and kicked at her pudgy face like a soccer ball. Her head reeled back as her spinal cord snapped, then pitched forward and slammed to the floor.

David now found himself cornered by four zombies, all of them shuffling towards him mercilessly, their bloody, gaping maws crying for flesh. David was surprised to hear a gunshot as one of them fell to the floor with a bullet in the head. The other three followed suit shortly after, and all seven of the zombies were finally dead. Now, the two finally had a chance to really look at the room. In the center of the room was the large U-shaped desk, which was now bloodied thanks to one of the zombies. There were three computers at the desk, and three roller chairs as well. Two large, glass statues stood at either side of the desk, both identical: A featureless man with a snake wrapped around him, the snake's eyes looking at the statue's head. There was a large elevator behind the desk, and there was a staircase on both walls to the left and right of the desk. In the back of the large room was a door, and also other decorative pieces were in the room, like couches, plants, and a water cooler in the corner. There were actually payphones by the right staircase, and then Kevin and David spotted the exit, and their hearts sunk. The doors were blocked by humongous metal shutters, blocking their escape. Over the doors sat a huge emblem. Kevinswore that he could have heard David cursing under his breath. The hugeemblem bore the all too familiar crest of Umbrella. Suddenly, they could hear the elevator shifting. Kevin and David ran towards the back of the entrance hall, and bolted into the room in the back, not waiting to see if it was already occupied.


	7. The Ferocious Claws of Envy

Marsh's boots slammed against the dull floor in a manner quite similar to that of his comrades, Derricks and Bo. Commander Burton hadn't been kidding them back up on the rooftop when he had warned them that they were not up against the typical foes, as the humongous creature that kept even pace when them did not exactly fall into the category of a human target. Since they had began running, Marsh had only caught quick glimpses of the massive beast. Could it have been human? Maybe long, long ago. The monster's eyes were multiple green slits in its insectoid face, and it had three large fangs, one on top and two on the bottom, that clashed and clanged together. Huge pincer-clad arms bent and twisted upward, lashing out towards the fleeing men. Its torso was relatively normal, a female stomach with female breasts, but it ended at the hips, where a huge slug-like abdomen began. Four legs held up the massive body, each tipped with a hoof-like claw. It enviously clawed at their bodies, desiring their flesh. As it took chase, a large, green, bulbous orb pulsated on its abdomen.

"For fuck's sake, she's gaining on us!" Bo quickly turned and began to run backwards and let the laser of his rifle dance upon the monster's face. "Eat shit." The automatic chatter ceased when a pincer shot forward and clamped down on Bo's torso. The monster stopped, examining her prey. As Bo continually flailed, the soldiers stopped and watched, aiming their firearms at the creature's head. She turned towards them, then looked back at her flailing victim. Her claw tightened, and broke Bo's torso, spilling blood onto the floor from Bo's mouth and punctured body. The claw craned over Envy's head once again, the limp body flapping as she began to run again. Marsh and Derricks suddenly got a reality check, as they too began to run, they saw stairs, and they did not stop.

>>>

"Surely they should be fine. They've got a pistol, it will keep them safe."

Jim, wired and nervous, turned on George. "Yeah, but what about when all of their bullets are gone, huh? Then what? They won't be that safe anymore, will they!"

Jim's bickering was cut short when gunshots echoed from the lobby. Mark moved over towards the door and placed his large hand on the handle, ready to open it to check if Kevin and David were alright. However, all attention moved towards the occupied locker as the once dead man that they had stuffed inside began to bang against the door of his prison.

"Dad, wasn't he-"

"Yeah Ben, he _was _dead. Everybody, come away from the locker."

Everybody did as Mark had said and shuffled away from the locker, as Mark headed towards it. He yanked down on the handle and threw the door open, as its undead occupant almost leapt out, pale hands grabbing for the survivors. Mark's hands moved faster than the corpse's, however, and he almost immediately swung the zombie under his arm and put him in a tight headlock. As yellowed teeth tried to bite at Mark's forearm, he pushed with one hand and pulled with the other and swiftly snapped the ghoul's neck. After the zombie fell face first onto the ground, Mark gruffly stated, "I think we need to arm ourselves."

Ben stepped forward next to his father, "I think I agree."

>>>

Kevin's optimistic attitude was once again stomped upon. Seeking refuge from who or whatever was aboard the elevator, he and David had run into the tiny office that was in the lobby. He closed the door and pressed against it, only to be pounced upon by yet another undead monstrosity. The creature yelled and hissed at Kevin, its white, vein-covered hands held at Kevin's face as its mouth flew towards his tender throat. He thrashed his body to and fro, in attempts to get the threat away, but could not get it off of him. David's fist flew past Kevin's face repeatedly, pummeling the man's face but doing no real damage to him.

"David! Please help me!"

David ran to the desk that sat against the wall of the office and grabbed a handful of pens. Wielding the writing utensils, David plunged a great deal of them into the zombie's tender face. He let go of Kevin, who quickly ran to join David as they watched the now blinded creature claw at air. David and Kevin both looked at the oak bookshelf, then to each other, and nodded.

"Hey! Hey you! Over here!"

With his hearing still keen, the zombie plodded over towards his prey. Simultaneously, David and Kevin tugged on the bookshelf, toppling it on top of the unsuspecting zombie. Crushed under the shelf, the zombie was not dead, but definitely trapped. They were safe, for now.

"Do we finish it?"

Kevin replied to David's gruff question with a boot to the zombie's skull. David, being a relatively intelligent man, knew what to do, and joined Kevin in kicking. Even after the man had long died, with its blood pooling on the floor, the men continued to stomp at its head. The did not stop until they heard noises from the lobby.

_-tattattattattat-_

The gunfire ended with a louder gunshot, and an even louder scream.

>>>

HUNK and Agent 2 got off of the elevator at just the right time. As they stepped out, they kept their weapons drawn, scanning the corpse-filled lobby. Just as the two elevators doors met at a closing, HUNK could hear the screams.

"Open the elevator again."

Agent 2 did just as HUNK had said, and two anti-Umbrella soldiers rushed down the stairs and careened across the lobby's floor, their automatics firing at some unseen being which was on the second floor. Not too far after them, the first of the sample-bearing B.O.W.s bounded down the stairs, a dead man in one of its claws. As the two men ran towards the elevator, HUNK plugged a round into the second man's leg. He fell to the floor, clasping at his wounded limp, fingers squeezing around the wound in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. He screamed as he tried to tend his wound.

"Derricks, look out!" The other soldier's cries were only in vain, for as his friend turned around, the monster's free claw swept down and clamped down on his face. As he was being lifted up, he clawed at the huge pincer, which tightened, crushing the poor man's skull.

The trio had seen most of this through the doors of the elevator, and just as Envy dropped both bodies and turned towards them, the doors closed, and the elevator began to move upwards. They heard a smashing noise below them as they ascended. "She's taken out the doors."

"She's what?" said the shaken soldier whose nametag simply said "Marsh." Before another word could be spoken, one of Envy's gigantic claws tore through the elevator floor. Marsh screamed as it squeezed his ankle, and pulled him to the hole. Far too small for a full-grown man to fit through, Envy made do and tugged on what she could, which resulted in Marsh's leg being torn off all the way to his hip. Bleeding all over the floor of the elevator, Marsh's screams echoed through the ears of HUNK and Agent 2. Suddenly, the elevator stopped, it had reached its floor.

"Get out. We'll meet up again later."

Agent 2 hesitated, then nodded.

"I have got a plan."

Before the doors closed, Agent 2 could see HUNK climbing up to the ceiling of the elevator. His body, then his legs disappeared through the ceiling of the elevator, and Marsh's screams became dull as the elevator doors shut. Metal began to shift upon metal behind her, and Agent 2 turned around, only to see that the shutters on the windows were pulling up. Escape was now much easier, not just for her, but for the monsters as well.


	8. The Dead Take the Streets

"Hello and good evening people of Spearhead. This is Roddy Vasquez here, reporting live outside our very own Umbrella Headquarters. It's just now nearing 10:30 P.M., and no Umbrella employee has left the building, even though working hours are certainly far over. Not only that, steel shudders have closed over the windows and doors, further building suspicion and paranoia. What in the world could be going on in there? We'll be right here delivering details first when they arise. Back to you guys in the studio."

"And, cut!"

Rodrigo "Roddy" Vasquez, the ever-cheerful field newscaster, dropped his perma-smile, replacing it with a look of disgust. Normally working just for daily news, Roddy had to substitute for the real nightly newscaster, who had called in sick at the last friggin' minute. Surrounded by the curious public, Roddy walked over to the newsvan and hopped in, attempting to find some sort of hiding place from the frantic population. The van was dimly lit, and unoccupied, perfect place for a nice relaxing smoke. He popped the cig in his mouth, and brought a flame to life from his crappy K-Mart purchased lighter. Just as he lit the cigarette, a siren blared and he jumped, dropping the cancer-stick to the floor of the van. Roddy grumbled and incoherently cursed under his breath as he stomped out the cig and threw open the newsvan doors.

"What the fuck is going on out here now?"

"Roddy, get over here, we've gotta start filming!" screamed Lopez, affectionately nicknamed "Roach" thanks to his "interesting" odors. Roddy brushed off his suit before beginning, trying his best to keep his attention on the camera rather than the scrapes and pounds that he could hear from inside of the building behind him.

"Good evening once again everybody, Roddy Vasquez here with a News 8 update. Only a few seconds ago, a high pitched siren had emitted from Umbrella HQ. We are unsure of the purpose, but a vast array of shrieks, pounds, and scratching sounds have been evident since the siren went off." The doors slowly opened. "People are currently leaving the Umbrealla building, and you're seeing it right here on Channel 8 folks! Let's see if we can try to get an interview with one of the employees. Exscuse me, sir? Sir?" Roddy approached one of the employees, and his gut began to wrench within him. He got a nasty vibe from this rather pale man in a ruffled dress shirt. His pasty face turned towards him, the purple crescents under his eyes and drool dribbling from his lips only adding to Roddy's fear. He lurched forward, surprisingly strong hands clamped down onto his shoulders as rotten teeth lunged at Roddy's throat. The teeth sank in rather deep, and as Roddy prepared to scream, the crowds outside the building did it for him as panic broke loose. More and more of the cannibal Umbrella employees poured out of the now wide open doors, and many found their way over by Roddy. His first attacker pulled up, ripping out his windpipe. He had lost a great deal of flesh from his chest, his throat, and one had even started tearing out his cheeks before he died.

Being a relatively intelligent man, it didn't take Roach long to realize that these Umbrella people meant trouble. One had spotted him, and began to take chase, so Roach bludgeoned it with the camera, which did little to no good. Now, he was being followed by about five, so into the news van he leapt. He twisted around and reached for the handle to shut the doors, but bloodied jaws beat him there, gnashing at his fingers. He pulled his wounded hand away, and realized how truly screwed he now was. As "they" piled into the news van, Roach couldn't help but scream as their fingers plunged into his abdomen. He saw his own innards being ripped from him before he ceased to be.

-----

HUNK looked back down into the elevator, where Envy's claws were still swiping throughout the cab. Poor Marsh was still bleeding on the ground, his hands still feebly trying to stop the river of blood from his legless socket. His screams had reduced to slight moans, and his now white face would just wince slightly if Envy's claw swept close to him. Unexpectedly, a siren began to sound. Envy's claw pulled out of the elevator, and he could see that she had stopped moving. Looking through the hole in the elevator floor, HUNK saw Envy begin to head downwards toward the main exit of the building, attracted by the siren. The timing couldn't have been better. The elevator, which had been heading upwards, was close to reaching the top floor of the building. HUNK could see the pulley system, and he carefully aimed his 40 mm grenade launcher at it, and let the explosive fly. As planned, the cable snapped, and the cab began to fall, and HUNK grabbed the edges of the opening, bracing himself. As it fell, he could hear a certain thump of the elevator hitting Envy's thick body. After a few seconds of falling, HUNK timed his jump and leapt from the falling cab, and perfectly landed right in the small alcove for the elevator doors. He watched the cab complete its fall, and smiled behind his mask when he heard the loud, gratifying noise of a big fucking bug getting smushed.

Wesker's voice echoed through his head. "Destroy the B.O.W.s and collect samples from each." Being in the doorway leading to the third floor, HUNK knew that a three story fall couldn't hurt him that bad, so he leapt from the doorway and onto the top of the elevator. Peering through the elevator cab's exit hatch, it was obviously not a pretty sight in the elevator. Marsh was still there, but very much dead, his body broken and twisted and bunched into the corner. The sample collecting wouldn't be much of a task for HUNK, however, for the hole in the floor made by Envy's claw was quite a sufficient entryway, for a great deal of Envy's vital fluids covered the walls in thick coats. Her face was slightly peeking through the hole, smashed beyond any sort of recognition. HUNK craned an arm into the blood-soaked elevator with a small Q-Tip in hand, and swabbed some of Envy's blood from the wall. Placing it in a secure test tube, HUNK leapt back up to the closest set of doors to pry them open. There were still six more monsters out there, for now...

-----

Ben felt a little disheartened by their "arsenal" that he and the others managed to put together. They had picked apart the locker room and armed themselves with anything that could serve as a weapon. He had the belt from the now dead (again) man, Alyssa and Cindy both had nightsticks that they found in lockers, Mark had actually pulled off a locker door, while Jim and George were both unarmed. Ben figured that his heart was on the brink of exploding, it was beating so fast, as he wiped a slick layer of sweat off of his brown forehead. His dad placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and gave him a squeeze.

"You good Ben?" Ben nodded, and Mark went on, "Alright everybody, we aren't exactly ready to take on any armies or anything, but if we stay cool and alert, we should be fine. Follow my lead, got it? I don't know who or what is out there, but we're gonna start by trying to find Kevin and David." Mark turned to Cindy and saw her face light up. She smiled at him, and he returned the favor. "Okay, I'm opening the door now. Get ready everybody." Mark's meaty hand wrapped around the doorknob, twisted it, and slowly opened it. He saw only figure, slowly shuffling. He was the only one up, clad in black with an auto slung over his shoulder. He had a hand on his arm, and he was looking at the bodies strewn about the Lobby. Mark turned to Alyssa, and gestured for the nightstick. He put down the locker door, as gently as possible without any noise, and firmly grabbed the nightstick. He crept up behind the man, who finally noticed him when the nightstick slapped across his face. He fell to the floor with a scream, both of his hands going to his face. Mark was surprised that the soldier was actually alive, but regardless, he took his handgun and automatic from him.

"What the fuck are you doing! I'm human! What the hell is wrong with you!"

David and Kevin ran out from the small office upon hearing the scream. "Whoa Mark! What just happened?"

Mark turned to them, wary with his newly acquired pistol. "Are you two okay? No bites, no scratches, yeah?"

Kevin smiled and spun around, "Clean as a whistle. Who's our new friend?" By now, everybody had come out of the locker room, and they were gathered around the soldier on the floor. He had short, buzzed brown hair and dark squinty eyes. He had a broad nose and a firm chin, the former was now bleeding thanks to the nightstick. He had black fatigues and a black kevlar vest, and a gas mask hung around his neck. On his vest, the name "Bohr, Harvey" was printed. "What do you people want?" Bohr eyed Mark, then his son, and his expression shifted from pissed to worried. "Hey, I didn't have anything against you guys, it was just a job, okay? Y'know, bread on the table kind of stuff!" Bohr was quickly shuffling away from the group, towards the exit.

A confused Mark trailed after him. "What are you talking about? Did you do something to me and my son? Speak up already?"

Crabwalking away from the burly ex-security guard, Bohr sputtered, "The lady upstairs gave the orders so we carried them out, I don't even know you!" Unfortunately for him, Bohr's frantic screams were rather loud. The dead began to walk towards the doors. As they approached, the group took a look outside the building for the first time. There was chaos. The undead that had been unleashed were prowling the city, and the citizens of Spearhead weren't faring well. Bohr, totally unaware of the shambling attackers on the other side of the doors, clambered to his feet, and ran through the doors, right into their grasp. Four got him, and he turned around to try and run back into the building, but to no avail. Mark took Bohr's pistol and aimed carefully, getting a good stance and steadying his arms. He knew that he couldn't save Bohr, but he could still put down the zombies, preventing any other deaths. Bohr thrashed and screamed, crusty, rotten fingers digging in his eye sockets and his ears and fingers and neck were being chewed like a dog would chew on a raw-hide. Mark shot Bohr first, putting a sudden climax to his agonizing screams, then he picked off the four zombies one by one.

"We need to find a good hideout, but first, I suggest we get some decent clothes."

"That's one of the best ideas I've heard all night." Kevin slapped Mark on the shoulder. "I've got 12 rounds left from the basement guard's gun, and if we're quick, we could probably get there fine."

"Excuse me, but may I make a suggestion?" George stepped forward, "I think we should actually take a quieter approach to this. Going in gung-ho with all guns blazing would be nice if we had more to work with, but we don't. Also, keep in mind that we don't know where we are. I say we explore this city, but as quickly and carefully as possible."

Kevin snickered, "That's the second best idea I've heard all night."

The group left the Umbrella building, and into a broken city of Spearhead they plunged.

-----

Ms. Black sat in her chair, ideas churning in her head rapidly, a whirlpool of anger, betrayal, and confusion. Most everything was probably out of the building and in the city by now, so Spearhead was pretty much doomed. Ms. Black felt that she herself was also pretty much doomed. If the monsters didn't get her, Wesker would be sure to. She knew it was a futile attempt, but she got up and went to the phone. Dialing quickly, she waited, the blaring ringing tones building suspense, even though she didn't expect much response. Her heart stopped when the tone stopped, and she heard the phone fall from its hook. She could hear groaning, and she now assumed the worst for Doctor Quillocy. However, her ideas were totally denied when she heard a crash and gunshots ring out. Doctor Quillocy's panicked voice suddenly took over the line.

"Who is it, who are you there? Is that you Black? Are you there? Hello? Hello? HELLO? Dammit." And in that span of five seconds, Dr. Q. was gone, and by the sound of it, totally insane. Black was on her own. She turned from the office, collecting her ID card and handgun from the desk. Upon entering the hallway, Black had guns pointed at her. Two soldiers, one Hispanic and the other a gruff bearded man, slowly approached her with their guns raised.

"Como estas?"

"Who are you?' The bearded man took one hand off his Magnum pistol, and snatched Ms. Black's ID card. "Suzuki, Yoko..." She scratched at his face and took off running. She didn't get too far, however, because the Hispanic still had his gun on her. She took the round to the knee, and dropped like bricks. She writhed on the floor, cradling her wounded knee. The bearded one, Burton it said on his vest, kicked her gun away as he kept her staring down the barrel of his .44. "We do not want to kill you. We want to know who you are. I'm assuming that your name is Yoko, yes?" She spat at him. Barry stood up and turned to Carlos and whispered, "_I'm thinking that this one will be easier if she's out_." Carlos nodded, and Barry reached down to pick her up. Once she was up, she didn't recall much, aside from a gloved fist hitting her in the face, knocking her into unconsciousness.


End file.
